


Sinners and Specters

by BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk



Series: sepelire securi [5]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Timeline, Alternate Universe, Aromantic Asexual Grace Chastity, Books, Every Adult in Hatchetfield has a Penchant for Gossip, Foreshadowing, Gen, His Wealth Is A Factor as to Why He's in the Student Council, I Invoke Linda Monroe's Eldest Being a Teen, I Invoke the Starkid Tradition of Giving Their Instrumentalists Shoutouts, Name Redaction, Nerdy Prudes Must Die Speculation, No Teen Character is Straight Unless I Say So, Nobody Likes Nerds, Sinners and Specters is this AU's Equivalent to Working Boys and Santa Claus is Going to High School, headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24504613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk/pseuds/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk
Summary: Two nerdy teens go to Beanies to work on their paired English project. Hatchetfield's increasingly suspicious behaviors are observed.
Relationships: A Little Bit of Cineplex Teen/Hot Chocolate Boy (Black Friday), Former Alice & Grace Chastity & Hot Chocolate Boy, Grace Chastity & Hot Chocolate Boy, Paul Matthews & Ted, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Series: sepelire securi [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751995
Kudos: 6





	Sinners and Specters

**Author's Note:**

> Highly important you read the previous parts before reading this one
> 
> In which I aggressively project onto Grace Chastity

> _ “What is the secret to happiness?” _

[ **REDACTED** ]  blankly stared at the paper in his hands, adjusting his glasses making sure what he was reading was correct.

“What’s the prompt,  [ **REDACTED** ] ?” His attention was stolen by Grace’s return from the restroom. “I hope it’s a good one.”

The obnoxious teen merely frowned at her as he raised the paper to her field of vision.

“Nice!”

“Yes, but it is difficult,”

“Only for the truly deprived, the unhappy, and the dead inside!” Grace yoinked the paper from [ ** REDACTED ** ]’s fingers.

“I mean that it is quite a broad, a-and vague topic. I’d rather explain an enumeration of the various uses of the quadratic formula,”

“Shame you can’t appreciate English class like I do, [ _**REDACTED**_ ].”

“Well, that is why I am grateful that I have you as my project partner, besides the fact that no one else but you can stand me...”

“Don’t be hard on yourself! But also quit the attitude, even the teachers are feeling it—“

“Not my fault that they’re always incorrect,” [ **REDACTED** ] got up and grabbed his bags.

“I miss Alice [ **REDACTED** ],” [ **REDACTED** ] whined out, “Do you miss her, Grace?”

“A bit,” Grace grabbed her things as well. “I miss the feeling of having her as my impulse control. Last year was so good to me...”

Chuckling to herself, “Still can’t believe Miss good, quiet Christian girl has been dating the Smoke Club’s resident sapphic for this long, though! Like, the guts she has to even interact with the Smoke Club,”

“I loathe those bullies! They act like pricks despite knowing better,” A pause, “Didn’t Deb [ **REDACTED** ] quit the Smoke Club?”

“Did she? I mean, she still smokes though?”

“I heard she got kicked out since she couldn’t get Alice to join them,” He tried to change the topic a little, sighing, “I remember the time when every guy in school thought sweet, shy Alice [ **REDACTED** ] was a viable dating option. I guess she is to you now, Grace, what with your shared principles and all,”

“Ugh! Noooo,” Grace stopped him. 

“Just because we have similar opinions doesn’t mean we’re compatible,”

“Oh, but there is a clear probability of compatibility!”

“I don’t need your mathematical malarkey, [ **REDACTED** ],”

“You said it didn’t click with [ **REDACTED** ], or any other fitting guys from Sycamore. Exploring is said to be a viable way of figuring things out, Grace,”

“I’m starting to not like the whole dating thing—everyone just wants to have sex,”

“No,“

“Uh, yeah? I mean, I know you do! You complain about _‘not getting pussy’_ every time you take us to the park,”

“I am lonely, okay! I too would like to fuck, or at least get a decent partner.”

“‘Partner,’ huh?’”

“Like I said, ‘exploring.’”

“You’re free to annoy me with the guy who piques at your curiosity,”

“...really?”

“Yeah. It’d be hypocritical of me to shame you for your choices.”

“Well,” He cleared his throat, “you know how [ ** REDACTED ** ] has been so willing to do me some favors, right?”

“Oh, [ **REDACTED** ]?”

“Yeah! He’s the one who took over for me for that one gig at the Lakeside Mall Cineplex last Black Friday,”

“What happened to you then? I was out of town at the time”

“Family emergency.”

“Ah,”

“Yeah, but [ **REDACTED** ] has just been really nice to me, Grace! No one ever did that much for me before,”

“I’m nice to you!”

“You’re always too busy to do me any favors!”

“I have a babysitting job, man. Like how you have a job at the Cineplex.” Grace adjusted the bags she held, “Mr. Houston can be irritable. Thankfully his kid is a decent human being.”

“Well, I’m just saying that [ **REDACTED** ] would be ideal. He’s nice. Plus, every guy I know’s a dick, and maybe I’m a dick too considering nobody likes me—“

“You’re not a dick...most of the time.”

[ **REDACTED** ] paused in his walking to glare offendedly at Grace.

“Maybe you should see if you like girls, Grace—“

Grace paused as well, groaning in frustration, “Dude, girls are as bad as guys! Like, in a different way, but still sucky nonetheless.”

“Don’t girls look forward more to feelings than sex?”

“Yeah, but it’s like, girls are obsessed on the feeling aspect, the idea of it all, the romance—“

“And you don’t like that?”

“Oh, I do not vibe with it at all! It’s kinda overwhelming how...demanding it can be. _‘Can you spend more time with me? Can’t we cuddle some more? Why won’t you kiss me? Why don’t we take this a little further?’_ Like, dude! What even is the appeal?”

“Then who’d be compatible?” [ **REDACTED** ] asked.

“Perhaps nobody! Why can’t people get that?! Why can’t  _you_ get that?”

The two then went silent. 

They continued to walk.

“You’ll have to find your happiness someday, Grace,” [ **REDACTED** ] broke the silence.

“Ohoho, did you just imply romance as the secret to happiness, [ **REDACTED** ]?” Grace sounded incredibly offended.

“Well, yes. Love begets happiness, Grace Chastity. It’s been a motivator for man as much as it has been used as a reason for the incomprehensible around us to be begotten, as well as to be understood. To deprive yourself of it,” He adjusted his glasses, “is to degrade your human dignity and become less of a person. Clear signs of unhappiness...at least according to Matt Dahan.”

“That is in reference to a kind love distinct from romance! And, like, there are millions of people who are happy despite the lack of a romantic partner...maybe I’m one of them, I don’t know.”

[ **REDACTED** ] tsked, “All love is the same.”

“I disagree with your statement, [ **REDACTED** ]! Love in its simplest, barest essence is the same, but it is expressed so diversely by humanity that it must be defined differently. The Ancient Greeks literally figured that out! A long time ago, mind you!”

“You just expanded my statement,”

“I know your implications, [ **REDACTED** ]. I actually refuted your statement.”

“No, you did not.”

“Yes, I did—“

“Hey nerds!”

As the two were headed out, they were stopped by another pair of students: [ **REDACTED** ] Monroe, a blonde boy who was recognizably the most popular member of the student council, and the apparently goth editor-in-chief of the Hatchetfield High school paper, Jules Irving. The paper was known within the community as [ **REDACTED** ], which was directly competed by [ **REDACTED** ] of Sycamore.

“[ **REDACTED** ] Monroe and Jules Irving,” [ **REDACTED** ] greeted like the obnoxious teen he was, peering his eyes at the two and adjusting his bow tie.

“Eyyyy,” The council boy threw out some finger guns, in a manner that reeked of rowdy stupidity and optimism.

“Do you two need anything?” Grace asked politely, albeit with a sliver of sarcasm.

“[ **REDACTED** ] and I were hoping if you know-it-alls are willing to trade prompts with us,” They replied, giving a disdainful look at the obnoxious teen standing next to her, “It’s kinda shit, but it most certainly fits you—“

“What Jules means to say,” Their project partner cut them off, “was how the prompt we got will turn out like shit in our hands, and that it would be most certainly fitting if you guys did it instead!”

“Tell us the prompt first,” [ **REDACTED** ] responded, crossing his arms.

“You first, nerd!” Jules cut back, their hands curling into tense fists.

“Hey, I asked first—“

“Okay!” Grace kept the two from arguing, pulling the paper with the prompt from her pocket, “I mean, it’s not like the question  **_‘ What is the secret to happiness? ’_** is a very easy one to butcher.”

“Holy shit, that’s loads easier!” [ **REDACTED** ] exclaimed, nearly hurting Jules as he slapped their back with his arm.

Jules glared at [ **REDACTED** ] with such intimidation that [ **REDACTED** ] quickly drew his hand back from patting them at the back.

“Yeah,” They then trailed out, slowly pulling theirs and their partner’s prompt, handing it to Grace.

“Good fucking luck, nerds.”

Grace tried to read the given question prompt as she carelessly handed Jules hers and [ **REDACTED** ]’s prompt.

> **_ “How significant is Society in regards to personal decision-making?” _ **

“Trade accepted—“

“They’re gone, Grace.”

She perked her head up, finding the two to be indeed gone.

“Aw,”

“Would you mind coming with me to Beanies? It’d be a good place to talk more about the project. We can even get drinks.”

“Oh, definitely. We do have a lot to talk about, after all,” The two were out of the school at this point.

“Beanies, though?”

“I’m partial to their hot chocolate. They serve them with sugar fitted accurately to my blood sugar deficiency.”

“Their coffee sucks though!”

“Well,” [ **REDACTED** ] snarked and snorted, “you could just not order.”

* * *

“There must be some reason Dahan described Prudence’s death in such graphic detail,” Grace wondered, in her right hand her physical copy of Matt Dahan’s Sinners and Specters, “considering [ **REDACTED** ]’s insistence that Dahan jumps to flowery narration for scenes of significance,“

“The only other time was when Sir Nautilus and his kid friend Arachne gave that speech which, as the Moonshoe’s unreliable and alien narration put it, ‘made topsy-turvy’ the masses against those who ‘behaved like Prudence.’” The hot chocolate boy took another swig from his mug.

“Hmm,” Grace placed the book down and reclined on her chair. Her fingers tapped on the table.

The hot chocolate boy, annoyed at this gesture, began to slurp in increasing volume.

“What?!” Grace blurted out, annoyed at [ **REDACTED** ]’s loud slurping. He stopped.

“Just get a fucking drink, Grace!”

“Alright alright, you don’t have to cuss me out, geez!”

Grace got up, standing behind a not-too-short, not-too-long line. There were three people in front of her, all guys, two of which were conversing with each other.

“That one, right there.”

“Ted, are you seriously trying to do what I did?”

The two guys talking were about the same height. One looked like a standard guy while the other, the one called Ted, was just like him, but tanned and had a mustache. 

One of them reeked of obnoxiously strong men’s cologne. Grace wasn’t sure which one, but her gut was leaning towards Ted.

“You’re Paul fucking Matthews—the average joe who actually makes those coffee shop romances work! Guys like me gotta learn, y’know?”

“Dude, she’s at least ten years younger than you.”

“How the fuck do you know?”

“Emma told me,” Paul paused, “Coffee shop romances? Like, that’s a trope?”

“No shit, Paul. Don’t you watch—“ Ted cut himself off, sounding embarrassed, “Just...I just know, okay?!”

“Next!” The barista said in a sing-song voice, keeping Paul from responding. The last guy had left the shop.

The one called Paul Matthews spoke for his and his companion’s sake, “One black coffee and one, uh Ted, what was—“

“One chai iced tea,”

“Y-yes, and one chai iced tea.”

“Alright, coming right up,” She replied, still in sing-song. 

The barista then literally turned around, calling out in callous sarcasm, “Emma, it’s your turn! My shift's done now,”

“Aight,” The barista who was apparently Emma emerged from the depths of the coffee shop, carrying an air of disinterest that rivaled the barista who called her, “what’s it, Zoey?”

“One black coffee, one chai iced tea,” The barista named Zoey then entered where Emma had emerged. Emma was now preparing the drinks.

“She’s really the one for you, huh, Paul?” Ted said to Paul, sounding oddly dejected compared to his aggressive snarking earlier.

“I mean, Emma’s cool! I like her.”

“I’m just surprised that you’re into the crabby one,” He sounded envious at Paul’s luck; the energy he emitted almost made Grace want to scoff at him.

“Eh, I don’t mind. Emma may be a bitch,” Emma had placed one of the orders on the counter, overhearing, “but she’s kinda like...my bitch.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re my bitch, dummy—”

“Emma!” Paul jumped in surprise.

“That your friend from work?” She asked, eyeing the two.

“That’s Ted,” 

Ted clicked his tongue and winked at her.

“Okay,” She responded flatly, placing the final half of the order on the counter.

Grace’s observation of the adults in front was cut as [ **REDACTED** ] approached her.

Handing her some change from his pocket, “Can you buy us some cinnamon rolls?”

“I was gonna get the banana bites though,”

“You actually eat those?”

“They’re good! Don’t be a coward and try them for yourself. I swear, I’m the only one who buys coffee shop banana bites!”

“...fine. That’s your money now.” He then returned to his seat.

“I had quite the experience last night,” Ted said to Paul and the barista serving them.

“Oh goodie, did you witness something weird?” Emma spoke with such sarcasm that Grace wasn’t sure if Emma was being genuine. Like, I don’t know either, readers.

“Well, I went out to drink the other night, and the bar began to fill up with smoke! It was ridiculously cold out too,”

“But it’s spring?” Paul wondered out loud.

“Exactly! The drunk fucks left at the bar came out doing some weird shit. The barkeep came out yelling, _‘Jaime, how could you leave me?! My love, my darling!’_ Dude was nuts! All of ‘em—nuts!”

“Anthony ’s happily married, though? Why’d he cry about someone named Jaime?”

“Sounds like one of those bozos I encountered last night” Emma cut in, “you know, [ **REDACTED** ]?”

“Who?” Paul and Ted asked aloud.

“The one who’s always in a hurry?”

“Oh yeah, that guy,” 

“I heard that guy’s lonely,” 

“Yeah,” Emma continued, “He walked in crying about his daughters and started talking shit about his wife, like ‘How dare you?! You ruined our family just like that, lazing about and ruining our children with my name?!’ Tears were coming out of his, fucking, bloodshot eyes. He sounded possessed.”

“[ **REDACTED** ] definitely does not have a wife and kids,” Paul stated.

“The last thing I heard about him was how he got dumped by his boyfriend [ **REDACTED** ],” Ted said, “and that shit was talk of the town a year ago!”

Grace’s, at this point, overhearing were interrupted to a now impatient [ **REDACTED** ], “What’s taking too long?!”

Grace gestured to the three adults in front of her.

“Gimme that,” He yoinked the money out of her hand, then cleared his throat in a volume so obnoxiously loud that he grabbed the attention of the three who were gossiping in front.

“Excuse me! We’ve been waiting a very long time—“

“Ah, shit! Line,” Emma straightened herself from her relaxed position.

“You two should get the hell outta here,” She handed them their drinks, “see you later tonight, Paul.”

“Y-you too, Emma,” And the two guys walked out.

* * *

“I heard Papa Ed died the other night,”

“You actually follow Peanuts the Pocket Squirrel?”

“[ **REDACTED** ]! Peanuts the Pocket Squirrel is adorable!”

The two were back at their table, munching on banana bites.

Grace was glad that the obnoxious teen in front of her enjoyed the banana bites as much as she did. She knew Beanies had crappy coffee, but she was surprised how well the pastries made up for it.

“Eh, I could care less for a squirrel. However, I find a murder like that quite concerning.”

“There seems to be an uptick of murders in Hatchetfield lately,” Grace took the last banana bite.

“Besides Gerald Monroe and Carol Davidson, who else died?”

“You remembered their names?”

“Gerald Monroe’s married to one of the richest people in Hatchetfield. His death was reported on the news last night. Local rando Carol Davidson’s was just this morning.”

“Wow,” Grace swallowed, “that sounds scary! I bet those murders are connected somehow,”

“Impossible. Their causes of murder are too different to be the responsibility of one killer.”

“Maybe it’s a secret group of killers? Oh! Perhaps a cult?” Grace reclined on her chair, “Knowing Hatchetfield, it could be true.”

“Another _‘Children of Chelicera’_ or another _‘Drowsy Town Dollies’_?”

“Could be.”

“This is oddly similar to how Sinners and Specters start, what with the random murders and all,”

“That is how Sinners and Specters start, actually! Dahan opens with rampant murders. It’s later revealed that they are casualties from the two warring cults that were secretly running Axengrave,”

“Which leads to the spirit of Lady Rockefeller-Hugo calling Prudence to dismantle the cults.”

“Yeah!”

“That...” Something lit up in [ **REDACTED** ]’s brain, “should be brought up in our project,”

“Oh, I need to put that down,” Grace reached her phone, opening her prepared Google Docs file.

“Come think of it,” [ **REDACTED** ] had his phone out as well, “everything Prudence does is influenced by Axengraven society.”

“Exactly! Whatever messages could be interpreted from Prudence’s experiences can be compared to the socio-political issues of the American society,” Grace reached into her mind, "Like destructive consumerism, polarization, gun violence, police brutality--"

"Intergenerational trauma, toxic families,"

"Don't forget good old fashioned discrimination,"

"All kinds of it!"

The two chuckled towards each other darkly.

“Sinners and Specters now kinda sounds like Ryan McDiarmid’s Blow-Up Bolide," [ **REDACTED** ] calmed down, "Just without the profanity”

“I’m more partial to Austin Farmer’s works though—something like The Stormtamer Chronicles,”

“Isn’t he a bit didactic in approach though, Grace? It throws the groove off, particularly when he gets preachy.”

"I'm partial to it," Grace then stopped, catching something in her peripheral vision. "It's about to storm out there. Maybe we should go home."

"Yeah, it is getting late."

**Author's Note:**

> If I were you, I'd pay attention to that novel


End file.
